Leave This Town
by RosieMcGuire
Summary: PLS R/R! Sam and Dean are in for the surprise of thier lives.
1. Kearny, Arizona

**Kearny, Arizona**

Alison Shuster was a fresh faced college graduate with sad brown eyes and short black hair. As she stepped out of her boyfriend's rust covered truck, a pair of ratty old tennis shoes clung to her feet with silver masking tape wrapped around the toes of the left. She looked upon the worn down old house with distaste, much like she did every day she looked at it. A few months ago it was nothing like this. She had been getting ready to graduate from college and achieve her dream of getting out of this crappy town.

She was supposed to go to California and see the coast.

Then one night she had a little too much to drink when a friend from town came to visit her. She barely remembered the night that changed her life but now it was like she couldn't get away from it. A month later she found herself to be pregnant. Instead of giving the child up for adoption, Alison dropped everything she had worked so hard for. She and her child's father, Eric Danforth, moved in together in the only house they could afford. Now the swell of a five month pregnant belly rounded her shirt.

Did it make her a bad person that she was starting to despise that bump a little more every day? The larger it grew, the farther she was from her dreams. Now she felt like she'd never get out of this town.

Taking a breath, Alison shoved her keys in her pocket and grabbed a paper bag full of groceries from the passenger side. Hoisting it upon her hip, she started to waddle up towards the screen door. It was unlocked, so she walked right in, turning her nose up at the smell that assaulted her nostrils. "Eric!" she called out, looking towards the living room where the only good piece of electronics, a big screen tv, recapped a football game. The recliner chair in front of it was his spot of choice. His arm hung down the side and the sillhouette of his face was turned from the television, eyes closed. Probably sleeping.

She huffed and turned to walk towards the kitchen and found the trash can knocked over, all it's contents spilled across the linoleum. Her face reddened as she put the paper bag she'd been carrying down and then looked at the trash. Eric had probably gotten drunk and knocked it over and not even had the common sense to pick it up. But that was just Eric, that's how he was. He never thought about what he did and how it would affect her. "Damnit!" She hissed. All the heat built up inside of her. She couldn't stand it!

After kicking the trash can across the room, Alison had had enough. "I swear to God Eric, you wake up and get your ass in that kitchen and clear up the mess you made!" She stomped into the living room but he hadn't moved from his spot. Her cheeks turned even darker red as she grabbed the remote and muted the television.

"Wake up!" She yelled at him. "You can't just expect me to come home every day and clean up after your mess! I'm not your slave!" But he still wasn't waking up. It just made Alison angrier until she felt like she couldn't breathe. It was knotted so tightly in her chest. She didn't want this life and this was just the final straw. "You know what? Screw you. You do whatever you want, sleep and drink your life away because I don't even care. I'm leaving!"

Pulling her keys out of her pocket, Alison went to the door and kicked it so it swung open but before she left, she peeked back.

Still nothing.

"You bastard.." Her voice was raw from anger and her eyes tearing. Well, she decided, she wasn't going to leave like this--with him pretending that he didn't have to get up when she was leaving him. She marched over to the recliner, clasped one hand on the back and pushed it. "I want you awake and watching me leave. You outrageous son of a--" A thump stopped her sentance and it took a moment for her to realize what happened. It replayed in her mind again and again until suddenly it sunk in. Eric head had rolled onto the ground and rest by her shoes. She couldn't tell if her heart was beating a million beats a second, or if it had stopped completely. The rest of his body lay headless in the chair with a half empty beer can in one hand.

"Oh... Oh my God!" Alison screamed as she backed up. Her widened eyes couldn't look away from the head on the ground. This had to be a scary movie, or some kind of horrible joke. She'd be pissed at him later but please let it be a joke.

She took one more step backwards and for a moment, the room was trust into darkness. Alison whimpered as she spun around, positive that she'd just seen someone but no one was there now. Or were they? Eric was dead and she was alone. Her heart was definitely beating now, and it felt like it would come right up her throat and fall out of her mouth. "W-Who's there?" Her voice trembled and she tightened her fingers around the set of keys in her palm, hard enough that she felt the metal cut through her skin.

A rush of wind passed behind her so quickly it felt like a person was there but as she turned once more, the room was empty. But it didn't feel empty. "What do you want!?" She cried out. It was possible that the silence was more frightening than anything else. Someone was here, she could feel it. Through the window, she looked towards the truck that was only fifty feet, if that, from where she is right now. She was going to have to make a run for it. She could drive to the next county and go to the police station, but at least she'd be gone. At least she would be safe.

She took two very slow steps towards the door, scanning the room every couple of seconds and trying very hard not to look at the severed head on the ground. Just five more steps towards the door. She took another but as she turned to reach for the door, she felt something hard hit her. Her head snapped to the side and she spit blood that landed on the television, covering the face of a broadcaster. She let out a scream as she hit the ground and lowered her hand to her stomach before snapping her head up.

Another cry came from her lips as a black shadow appeared.

Alison started to backpedal as the blackness slowly took form and before her eyes, a man was standing in front of her. He wore a modest white suit and looked to be in his fourties. She started to wonder if she had been seeing things. As her hand pressed down to the ground, she felt it slide over something slick. She brought it up covered in blood and darted her eyes to the ground. The blood had been from his neck rolling off his body. She screamed and jumped but didn't have a way to go. Wide, wild eyes glared up at the man who had a very simple expression on his tanned face.

His hands were stuck in his pockets as he stood there just looking down upon her. "You have something my boss needs."

She was flabergasted. "Money? Jewelry? I don't have anything. Take the tv or the car, just please don't kill me." The tears fell down her face freely now and she was shaking.

The man chuckled as he lofted a brow, "I have a proposition for you."


	2. She knows something

"Okay tell me again what happened." Dean Winchester was a no nonsense person when it came to questionning someone that most likely beheaded her boyfriend the night before. Poor guy was probably relaxing with a beer and a game and then she goes all psycho on him and he's minus a head. Awful way to go.

With the sleeves of his button up shirt folded to the bend of his elbows, he leaned against the interrogation table, staring down at the dark haired woman who sat at the other end. Of course she looked up, frightened, but there was something else there that Dean just couldn't put his finger on. And he didn't like feeling like he was being taken for a loop. This woman was lying about something but he couldn't tell what exactly.

The look he gave to his brother Sam said just as much.

Alison Shuster had red eyes from a long night of crying. She closed her eyes and then glared up at the man who'd been introduced as Special Agent Michaels. "How many times do I have to go through this with you?" The night had been so shaken up that alot of it didn't make sense even to her. "I've been extremely cooperative and if you don't mind me saying, I just found out my boyfriend has been killed. I want to go home."

Dean lofted an eyebrow, "Well you aren't getting anywhere quicker by not answering my questions."

"I _did_ answer your questions! Twice now!" Her voice raised as she wiped her hand over her face.

Sam, witnessing the shift on his brothers face, jumped to his feet and put his hand on his arm to stop Dean. The look that exchanged between the two was almost like a power struggle but Dean backed down and turned, pacing for a moment as he brought his palm over the stubble on his face. Sam watched him for a moment, just to make sure, and then turned to the girl. "Mrs. Shuster.."

"_Ms._" She corrected.

He stared for a second and then let a smile cross his face, one that usually reassured people, put them at ease. "Right. Ms. Sorry." He clasped his hands together and set them on the interrogation table. It was metal and cold, even though the room was pretty warm. Sam made a mental note. Sometimes alot of this stuff never came back to bite them in the ass, but he wanted to make sure and have every last bit of information on his side. "Ms. Shuster, did your boyfriend have any enemies that you know of? Did anyone have any reason to attack him?"

Alison shook her head after a second of thinking, "No. Eric was a good guy. He got along with everyone."

"Until someone decided to lop his head off at the neck," Dean interjected, just to remind them that he was still in the room--and there was still an unsolved. He saw the look on Sam's face and widened his eyes a little as he shrugged. "Oh come on, you can't tell me this guy gets beheaded and she knows nothing at all."

"I don't!" Alison yelled, her voice echoing in the small room. She jumped up, thin framed and wrapped her arms around her body. "I got home and he was sitting in his chair, like he always does. The house was a mess but it's always a mess because he always leaves it that way. I told him I was leaving and moved his chair and his freaking head rolled down to my feet!"

"And yet nobody has a single grudge against the guy.."

Sam turned to his brother, put his hand on his chest and stepped him back a little. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Dean, what's going on?"

He looked perplexed at his younger brother. "What do you mean 'what's going on'? She knows something." Then he turned his head to the side

"Maybe." Sam shrugged, looked over his shoulder at the dark haired, thin girl and then back to his brother. "But we don't even know if this is our kind of case. Before you go all Daniel Kaffee on her, we should check out the scene."

Dean was stunned for a second. Wasn't that usually his kind of line? That was something he would say, not Sam. Sam would be the crusader that wants to help figure out the case even if the Boogeyman wasn't behind it. He could feel the rolls were starting to turn. Though he had no plans on turning into the research guy. Sam could keep that particular job. He let out a breath and just nodded, before looking over at Alison Shuster, still sure at the very pit of his stomach that something was horribly off with her.

He walked passed Sam's arm and went towards the door. He didn't even say a thing as he walked out but he had a feeling this wasn't over.

Sam looked up at the house as the Impala pulled up in front of it. It looked like it was about to fall down if the wind blew the wrong way. He turned his head to the side as he heard the driver's side door shut when Dean stepped out.

"Well this is a little slice of white trash heaven, isn't it?" Dean commented as he looked along the lawn filled with dead grass. The plants were all slouched forward and withering away as well. His mind first went to zombies but this had none of the typical signs of zombies--minus the rotting ground. He started to walk up the driveway in a pair of work boots that he'd happily changed into after leaving the police station.

He had been thinking about that girl ever since they left. She was lying about something. Maybe she orchestrated her boyfriend's death. Nobody would accuse a tiny twenty something of doing something so horrific. Humans could accept things like this alot easier than he could, especially now that he knew what was really out in the world. Maybe he was a little too jaded but he couldn't really help himself. When you spend your life fighting evil and then find out that either the world would turn into some twisted version of Resident Evil, or he would have to be the "vessel" for some Angel Puppet Master and fight his brother.. if Lucifer got ahold of him.. it left you a little jaded.

There was yellow tape across the doorway that Dean easily walked through. No one seemed to be around for miles. The local police were wavering back and forth as to whether they wanted to charge Alison with murder or blame it on some rogue passerby. He had a feeling not much really went on in a small town like this.

"Dean, look."

Sam stepped over the line easily and almost missed it but something caught his eye. Bending down, he drew his two fingers along a line of white dust that crossed the front door. He brought his fingers to his nose and took a small sniff but didn't get anything. Then he tapped a small spot onto the tip of his tongue.

"Salt?" Dean asked as he watched his younger brother. If it was salt, then did that mean Alison knew about demons and was trying to keep them away? He felt like he was chipping away at something but he just wasn't there yet.

A curious and befuddled expression crossed Sam's face. "No, it's.." He ran the tip of his tongue along the roof of his mouth, trying to decifer the taste but he couldn't be sure. It was bland, dry and powdery. He stood slowly and wiped his hand on the hip of his jeans. "Maybe chalk?"

"Maybe?" He pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on. It was getting dark outside and was already a little too dark in here for his liking. Not that he was afraid of the dark. There was just something off about this place, and this whole situation. The whole case was surrounded by the air of mystery. And if it was one thing that Dean loved doing, it was unraveling the mystery and taking down the bad guy.

Sam looked over and had to brush his longer hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe." Part of him felt like he had been working so hard lately, exhausting himself, he wasn't working at one hundred percent. While that could be dangerous, he wanted to proove to Dean that he could do this. He could work just as hard, sleep just as little and not go back into that creature he had become before.

And he sure as hell didn't want to give his brother any reason to worry about him.

His eyes averted to the side and he noticed a basement door. Grabbing his own flashlight and turning it on, he asked, "You want to take it or should I?"

Dean turned and looked over in that direction then back to his younger brother. "You mean the creepy basement?"

Sam grinned.

"You know, I saw The People Under The Stairs when I was a kid. Freaky movie." He gave a fake shiver (at least he told himself it was fake) and head towards the basement door.

"I can do it for you."

"Pfft. You just go examine the dead guys chair." After everything that he'd seen, Dean was the last person who was going to be afraid of what could be hiding in the basement. He'd been attacked by way too many creatures in the dead of night not to expect it. He'd be more surprised if he went down there and there was nothing. That would certainly be out of the ordinary.

Then again, Sam wasn't convinced this was thier kind of case. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just some psycho girlfriend who got pissed off, took an axe into thier trailer park home and cut off his head. Stranger things had happened. But then why wasn't there a trace of any weapon used on the guy's severed head? It was almost like his head just became unattached.

With the light flashing along the ground, Dean stepped along the creaking, wooden stairs and took in the room. It was small, stone, and pretty cool. There were two small windows on opposite ends of the room and it was filled with boxes. He shone the light on one of them. It read: "Ali's College Stuff." Curiously, he opened the top and pulled out a handful of pictures, all of Alison either alone or with her friends.

She had been drinking obviously with all the flashing she was doing. Dean perked a brow and turned his head to the side as he looked at some of them, a little more interested then he should be. When he finished, he put the pile back and picked up another. They were all pretty much the same until he came across one. He had to hold it up to the light coming through the dirty window to see. It was black, with light lines along it. Then he realized exactly what it was.. an ultrasound.

His nose crinkled a little as he continued to flip through the pictures. There were a few of that same college girl minus the beer and plus a growing belly. She must have been pregnant, but where was all the baby stuff? Unless he missed something, she wasn't pregnant when he just saw her earlier.

He pocketed that picture and as he turned, his curiousity spiked.

Shining the light in the back of the room, he drew himself closer. While it had been covered in shadow, with the light he could now see it closer. It was a symbol that he'd never seen before. Reaching forward, he touched his fingers to the mark and came away with a still wet liquid.

Blood.


	3. Hi Dean

Sam Winchester flipped his cell phone closed and turned to look at his brother, who was leaning against the backend of his Chevy Impala. Sometimes it amused Sam just how much Dean loved that car. He was pretty sure that he'd watched his brother's soul crack wheneven they ended up hurting the Impala. But in that case, Sam did understand why it was so important to him. He cleared his throat as he slipped his cell into his jacket pocket.

"That was Bobby." He said, thinking about the man that he considered a secondary father.

Sometimes it hurt to admit that Sam used to think that Bobby was more of a father to him than his own was. When he was growing up, he spent much of his time being shuffled from place to place, for reasons that he hadn't fully understood at the time. But whenever they were given the chance to stop, he remembered always seeing his Uncle Bobby. They didn't really talk much growing up but he distinctly remembered impromptu baseball lessons when he was visiting.

He'd taken it upon himself to make sure the boys stay safe, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that meant keeping him out of this war. That's something that Sam appreciated when it came to Bobby. If they were going to keep the world from ending, they would have to pool all thier resources.

"What did he say?" Dean asked as he casually widdled his pocket knife along a piece of wood. He wasn't making anything in particular but it kept his mind focused. The blood on the wall and the symbol meant something but he couldn't place that symbol anywhere. He'd been hoping that Sam knew what it was from but in the end they'd wound up sending Bobby a picture to see if he could figure it out. His averted his eyes up to look at his brother, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

He already had his suspicions. Maybe the girl had been possessed, that was an easy answer. Just exorcise her and all would be right again. They could move on. But he had a feeling it wasn't as easy as that. And what had that white powder been? He swore he'd seen it somewhere before. He was also wondering if maybe he was missing something and this wasn't as big as it seemed. Maybe it was just a group of freaks who thought it would be a good idea to sacrifice a human. When he and Sam had left the house and walked around back, they'd found it surrounded by dead animals. The earth had been poisoned somehow. It was the only thing that made sense.

A few moments had passed and Sam hadn't said anything. "Sam."

The younger brother looked up a little startled, "Yeah?"

Dean repeated himself, a little slower this time. "What did Bobby say?"

Where had he gone? Sam wondered. One second he was thinking about Bobby, then his father and then his mother and his brother and the next it was like he was being shaken awake. Was he really in that bad need for a nap? Maybe he should find a motel and catch a little sleep before heading out again. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes hard enough to make himself see spots. "He's looking but he said he's never seen the symbol before."

"Well that's great."

Sam shrugged, "But he knows someone, a hunter that sets up shop nearby. Alex something-or-other. He said this guy knows more about symbols that any of the books. He's giving him a call to let him know we're coming."

Thinking it over, Dean nodded. He'd seen the symbol but after having Sam check it out with him, he had drawn it down in a little notebook and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans. Just in case. It had helped before, though this time he was pretty certain this was nothing like a Tulpa. "Alright, where's the shop?"

****

Just nine and a half miles down the road, Dean took a lazy left at an old dirty sign that read Gila County. It had only been a fifteen minute ride from Kearny to Hayden but it just went to show that there were more hunters nowadays then there used to be. The town looked deserted, the streets quiet. Dust from the ground rose up behind the Impala as it creapt down the street.

A handpainted sign reading 'Velasco St' had them turning right and just where Bobby had mentioned was an old, run down white garage. There was a junk yard surrounded by a chainlink fence in the back and only one truck, an old white clunker parked out front. Dean pulled up in front of the building, the Impala making a slow and rolling stop as both he and Sam leaned over. "Y'sure Bobby didn't forget to take his meds and send us into the middle of nowhere?"

Sam could already head Bobby cursing at Dean and it made him chuckle to himself. "It's the address." He said, pointing at the building with the drawn on letters. He checked his paper and then looked back up at the building. "Seven-Eighteen Velasco Street." He gave Dean a look and while it didn't seem like anyone was there, he wasn't one to refuse a listen to Bobby Singer. Opening the door, Sam slid out of the car and viewed down the long street. There was nothing. Maybe this Alex person didn't live here anymore. It would make sense. Sam couldn't imagine living in the middle of the desert.

A second behind him, Dean slid out of the car and put his keys in his pocket. "This better be worth it." He murmured to himself as he waited until Sam wandered around the side of the car and then head towards the open front door. The glass windows were dirty and inside there was one old fashioned radio playing some old timey music. It was pretty but almost eerily out of place. The floors were covered in dirty shoe prints and it felt a hundred and twenty degrees in here, easy.

An old fan clattered as it made it's rotations, only really pushing around hot air.

Dean gave Sam a look as he moved his hand to the rim of his jeans where he hid his favorite gun, a nickle-plated Colt 1911 .45 caliber semi-automatic. Sure it was a little fancy but when you found a winner, you tend to stick with it. It was too quiet for Dean to be comfortable with so he curled his hand around the butt of the gun, ready to pull at a moments notice. He was sure Sam was doing the same. "Alex." Dean called out.

As he spoke, he heard a crinkling behind one of the doors to his right.

He looked at Sam and nodded towards the door as he pulled his gun out. Safety off. Then he aimed it at the floor and backed up towards the wall. Sam moved to the other side, a Taurus model 92 in one hand, his palm against the door. He stared for a second and then once Dean nodded, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Both of them rushed into the room, guns pointing.

Sam had expected to see a bloody mess, some kind of attack because that's usually what happened to the people they needed help from. He expected it to be too late. He expected to see body parts flung across the room, insides on the outside, an expression of horror written across some poor guy's face.. but what he saw was--

A pair of boots.

Dean noted the man who sat behind the desk. He saw the beard on his face, the dirt coating his skin.. he saw the handrolled ciggarette hanging from his lips and the newspaper opened in front of him. He also noticed that the man didn't jump when two people darted into the room with thier weapons aimed at him. For safety sake, they didn't lower the guns. "Alex?" He asked, almost certain this was the guy Bobby had known--though he didn't look much like he'd be into symbols.

The man with the dirty face looked up at the two then licked the pad of his thumb and turned the page of the newspaper.

Dean looked at Sam, a face full of confusion. "What, is he a deaf symbol reader?"

Sam shrugged and kept his eyes on the guy. Whoever he was, he didn't seem too surprised to have guns pointing at him. Well, either unaffected by the guns pointing, or unafraid of getting shot. Either didn't bode well for him. "Are you Alex?" The man still said nothing. "Bobby sent us to look for Alex." Maybe the name drop would ring a bell for him.

He still seemed unfazed. After taking a drag from the ciggarette, white smoke billowing around his face, he looked back at the newspaper and spoke. His voice sounded like he'd been a heavy smoker for many years. It was gruff and scratchy, almost like he swallowed sand. "Out back." He said, not paying anymore mind to the Winchester boys.

Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to leave, turn his back to this really freaky guy but if he wasn't Alex, they needed to find him and then get back to Kearny. Or if the symbol meant nothing, then get back on the road. They had an Apocolypse to attend to. He lowered his gun and backed out of the room. To the left of the room was a door that lead to the garage. He lowered his gun as he cautiously went through the door. There were three more cars in the back, none of them especially interesting. What did catch his eye was a tall, dark haired guy, a little dirty around the edges in a white Tshirt and jeans.

Hitting Sam's chest with the back of his hand, he nodded towards him. "Hey Alex." He called.

The man turned, distracted momentarily. He cocked his head to the side slightly like he was trying to place them. Dean started to walk towards him, Sam in tow, "Bobby said you could help up with--Holy Jesus!" He jumped back as a rush of black attacked the guy from the back. The shine of a blade whipped out at the man, who jumped back from it once, but got caught as the woman with the long black hair striked out again. He let out a scream as the knife cut into his skin and backhanded the girl.

She went flying over the top of one of the cars, rolling to the ground with a grunt.

Dean jumped as Sam rushed towards the dark haired guy. Instead, Dean went to the ground, pulled her up and tossed her back against the wall. He went to close in on her but as he back hit, she raised one leg enough to jam her leather boot into his chest and knock him back. She only managed to knock him off balance. He grabbed her wrist, turned her and pushed her front and chest against the wall. He had to figure out what it was so he could kill it. But his brother's voice distracted him.

Green eyes turned to see the dark haired man with the knife that had once been in his side now pressed against Sam's throat. "Make another step.." The man-creature said, his voice slick like he was a snake trying to lure the innocent little bunny into a trap. Well, neither of them were innocent enough to fall for them.

The girl against the wall started to whisper, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestasv.."

Sam swallowed hard, his throat knicking against the blade, but he recognized what the girl was saying and he started to whisper along. Dean, on the other hand, knew the language but he was confused as hell. So he just stayed where he was and watched. The guy's face turned slightly and he hissed, almost like his ears were ringing. "You think that silly incantation will do anything to _me_?"

But the voices continued. "Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii.."

His eyes turned dark and as they repeated the words, he started to shake. His fingers trembled until the words made him scream, voice echoing loudly in the garage. When the knife shook, lowering slightly, Sam took the oppurtunity. He brought his knee up and drug the man's arm down to crack on his knee.

The girl between Dean and the wall threw her head back, hitting Dean in the nose. He stumbled backwards enough for her to run towards the man. Her fingers curled around an iron cross that she broke from the necklace around her neck. She tackled the man to the ground and pressed the iron cross to his forehead. The sound of meat sizzling filled the room. With him now on the ground, she hissed the rest of the incantation with spite. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio _et secta diabolica._" The last words left her lips as black smoke came gagging up from his throat. It filled around the ground while the sound of screaming echoed from the creature until the smoke was gone and the man lay still and bleeding on the ground.

Out of breath, she rose from the ground.

Dean looked still full of confusion as she stared over at the girl who's face he could now see, and now recognized. "AJ?"

Hearing the voice, Sam looked over at his brother and then to the girl that he had no recollection of knowing. Maybe he'd never met her at all. She stood slim in a red shirt and dark jeans, a dark jacket over her arms and leather boots. Her long black hair fell down her back as she moved her hands to her hips. "It's Alex." She said simply. Then she turned. "Hi Dean."


	4. Bible Language

**

The girl named Alex picked up the blade that the possessed man had dropped and threw it towards Dean before Sam could stop her. The knife went flying through the air almost as if it were moving in slow motion. Every second that passed brought it closer but Dean couldn't seem to move away from it. He saw the edge of the blade, stained with blood and for a moment, he thought it would be stained with his blood as well. But when it finally struck him, it managed to miss his skin. He realized by the look on her face that it was meant to. Instead of slicing through skin, it cut into his leather jacket (which he still didn't know why he'd worn in this hot garage) and threw him back just enough to stick into the wall.

His breath caught in his throat for just a second as he turned his head to the side and looked at the blade before looking over at her. "What the hell was that for?" He asked, voice raised in shock. His eyes averted to his brother for a moment who was closer to her. She might really be possessed, or something worse, and he wanted to know they'd be able to get her.

"Funny you use that word." She said, her boots clicking on the garage floor as she walked towards him. "Hell." Dean was ready though, his hand poised to grab for the gun at his side. But he didn't have to grab it. Instead, she fisted the blade and pulled it out of the wall. "Why don't you tell me why you aren't in it."

"You know, that's the first time I've been asked why i'm not there instead of telling me to go." Dean smarted, keeping his eyes on the girl that he knew as AJ. They had mean near Christmas of the prior year. A hunt had them crossing paths. A few vampires killed, a few shots shared and after one incredibly wild night, they'd parted ways.

Sam moved quickly, closing in behind Alex with his gun pointed at the back of her head. He didn't want to have to kill someone in cold blood, especially someone that Bobby trusted, but he would do anything when it came to protecting his brother. Once upon a time, Dean had told him that was the weak link between them. That the evil would exploit it as much as possible, and it was true. It would always be a vulnerability but he didn't think it made them weak. It was the difference between shooting someone in the foot or shooting them in the neck. One affects you more than the other.

It hurt that people had to get killed, but it didn't hurt as much as it had when he watched Dean die in front of him the night Lilith set the Hell Hounds after him. Sam could still see the invisible dogs clawing at his brother's chest cavity until there was nothing left. Some nights he still felt the warmth and weight of Dean's blood on his hands.

And sometimes when they passed a graveyard, he still remembered putting his brother's body into the ground. Even though he swore to Bobby that he would find a way to bring Dean back, he still knew the solid cold feeling he got of losing his best friend. He knew what it felt like to have this knot of hopelessness in his chest, and to try to breathe through it every day for months. "Back up if you don't want to be shot." He hissed, keeping an eye on her.

She took in a deep breath, not moving at first, then she realized the seriousness in Sam's voice. She backed up a few steps, enough that he wouldn't be on edge but not enough for her to be too far away from him. She'd spent alot of time around evil creatures, enough that she knew the difference in someone who was possessed or not. When she had been close to Dean, she hadn't felt like he was possessed so how was it possible that he was alive?

Holding her hands up in retreat, she didn't take her eyes off of the older Winchester. "I heard you went through your own personal version of Drag Me To Hell, so how are you up and running now?"

Dean, reverting back to his old self now that the knife was away from his body, pulled his jacket at the collars and shrugged his shoulders to fit the leather back into place. The hole however was still at his arm. "Do I have to send a memo out or something? Let people know i'm not Hellhound puppy chow?"

From behind her, Sam just shrugged.

After a sigh, Dean stared at Alex. "It's a long story."

She lofted an eyebrow. "I have time."

***

Balancing the neck of the beer bottle between her thumb and pointer finger, Alex listened to the story intently. She could feel that some bits and pieces were left out but there wasn't much she felt she could do about it. She couldn't change this. She couldn't change what happened to him. But knowing that an angel found a way to bring him back made her face redden. She had met an angel once, and he'd had a very different story. Her eyes closed for a moment and she thought about that very drunken night she and Dean spent together.

The feel of her hands along his strong muscles as he kissed along her skin was a very vivid memory that she hadn't forgotten. Especially when she'd gone to his grave site, which had taken months to track down. She'd stood in an oversized Tshirt and a pair of jeans, looking down at the makeshift grave marker. She'd had a long conversation with him, even though she knew he was gone.

Apparently now he was back.

Taking a sip from the bottle of beer was like jumping into a pool in the middle of summer. "Okay so let me get this straight. You sell your soul for your brother, get your ass pulled into hellfire, burned up for a couple months then some angel reaches in and pulls you out to fight the good fight?"

"Basically."

"Bummer." She said, even though she felt a knot build in her chest. How could this have happened? She'd thought that he was gone for good, but he wasn't. Now he was right here, but she couldn't change the past. She couldn't change any of it.

Dean nodded at her sentiment as he finished off his beer and then leaned forward in the leather chair. She'd taken them into a sealed room that was cooled with a soft air conditioning. The furniture was soft and the floor was clean. It was like a bomb shelter with a big screen tv. He could get used to staying in a place like this for awhile, especially when outside was burning like--well--the fires of hell. He put the empty beer bottle down on the desk in front of her and then leaned forward. "So let's get down to business. Sam?" He turned his head to look at his brother.

Raising his eyes from the ground, Sam looked around for a second and then nodded. Had he just spaced out _again_? He definitely needed that good night of sleep. But he wasn't one to delude himself on thinking that was all it could be. He'd been in this position many times before and things were usually much more detailed then they appeared to be.

Putting his half full beer bottle on the table, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. Flipping it open, he scrolled from the pictures until he found the one that he'd taken of the symbol Dean found in the basement. Then he held out the phone for Alex. "This was on the wall in the basement where a man was killed, head chopped off at the neck."

He looked at Dean and then back at her. "It was drawn in blood. Bobby said you would know what it was."

Alex reached out and took the phone from him, looking at the symbol. The outside was a large circle with small runes surrounding it. And inside.. what she saw made her stomach tighten and chest pound. Her eyes widened slightly and unknowingly, she moved her hand up to touch the hallow of her neck. After clearing her throat, she looked at the boys and then handed the phone back.

"Yeah, I know that symbol." She swallowed and handed the phone back.

Sam, much like his brother, hadn't missed the adverse reaction she had. Curiousity filled green eyes as he reached for the phone and put it back in his pocket. "What does it mean?" He asked, leaning forward so that his elbows were on his knees.

Dean had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that whatever she was about to say wasn't going to be good. But then again it didn't take a genious to figure that out with the way she was anxiously grabbing at the necklace she was wearing. He made another mental note. That may come into play. He did wonder why that symbol made her grab that necklace. He watched the look on her face carefully and when a few minutes passed without her answer, his deep voice called her name. "Alex."

She raised her eyes and tried to clear her mind of the fog she'd gone into. "It's a mark used to send away angels. The runes are part Aramaic." She took another breath and let it out slowly. "Part Hebrew.. and Greek. They're ancient Palestinian languages--bible language." Alex pressed her lips together as she remembered the first time she'd seen that symbol. She'd had it scribed into her skin when an angel had tried to take over her body without her permission just a little over a year ago.

"So a demon put it up to keep an angel from saving the guy he killed? That seems a little overachieving for a demon." Sam didn't understand it. That didn't make sense at all.

"No." Alex shook her head, "It wasn't a demon. Demons can replicate the symbol down to the last detail but they can't make it work. It only has power when--" There was a hesitation as she heard the rest of that sentance play out in her head. Even she knew how crazy it was going to sound.

"When what, Alex?" Dean was trying to be understanding but it was getting really annoying. He felt like he was pulling teeth to get anything out of her. He knew she knew so she just needed to open her mouth and actually say it. "It only has power when what?"

She looked up slowly, "..when it's forged by God."

_God?_


	5. Haven't you seen Dogma?

_First off, I want to thank Brit (impeccableblahs) who inspired me to start writing this story.  
She also got me to made this a crossover story so enjoy that.  
PS--check out her story "Lithium" Make sure to review and insist she write more :P  
Secondly, thank you to everyone who's been reading (whether you review or not). It's tough  
to be a writer and put your work out there, especially because it has so much of ourselves  
in it. So again, thanks alot and I really hope you enjoy!  
_

* * *

_God?_

Had she really just said.. God?

Dean blinked as though if he did, he would find a way to hear better--or change the words that he heard. But that was hardly the case, he realized, as he stared at her cool as nails expression. She had legitimately just blamed God for the bloody symbol on the basement of some crime scene. He tried to play it through his head. If God had done it, why would he want to thwart off angels? Weren't they his reinforcements? Or maybe it wasn't a real mark and it hadn't actually kept the angels at bay so some demon could just be trying to throw them off it's track... and onto--God's.. Ok that didn't make sense either.

He looked over at his brother who's brooded expression mirrored the same confused look he had on his own. "I think you're going to have to give me something to clean my ears out because I'm pretty sure tall, dark and sexy over here just told us that God made that symbol."

"I did." Alex replied, completely straight faced as she stared forward at them. "The symbol was only ever used once before. When Lucifer fell from Heaven God inforced that seal to keep him from getting back in."

"But wait, I thought you said it was used to keep away angels." Dean was trying desperately to put the pieces together but he wasn't really that good at puzzles. He was more the point and shoot kind of guy.

Interrupting Alex, Sam--who found this incredibly fascinating--scooted forward in his seat. "Well technically, fallen or not, Lucifer is still an angel." When he got the nod from the dark haired girl in front of them, he started to play this out in his head. "So either that was a fake symbol to throw us off track or.."

Having finally caught up, Dean finished, "Or God just left His calling card."

"Exactly." Alex got up from the leather chair and walked around the table. She head over to the mini fridge and pulled out another bottle of beer. When she turned, she was about to speak but saw a near puppy dog look on Dean's face. Chuckling to herself, she grabbed another bottle then checked with Sam who shook his head before closing the door. She handed Dean his beer after popping the cap over with her palm and the table.

Sam was the one who spoke up first. While Dean was embracing his beer and savoring it like it was his last, it was Sam's mind that was still trying to work things out, like the wheels of a machine. They all had to be in the right place for things to run smoothly. Otherwise one wheel would hitch.. like it was now. He crossed his arms over his chest, "But if God's missing, why would He leave a great big neon sign pointed at him?"

Dean sat forward but Alex jumped, "God's what?"

He looked from Sam to her. "Missing. Like face on a milk carton missing."

She looked stunned. Was that even possible, for God to go missing? Her eyes widened as her head shook slightly, "How?" She asked, bringing the bottle up to her lips to take another drink. All of a sudden, she started to freak out. The knot in her stomach tightened and she had a feeling that this meant she was going to end up going somewhere she didn't want to go. "How does God just go missing?"

Dean shrugged, "How am I supposed to know?"

Even though Castiel had spoke of God just disappearing, Sam had never heard a how. Or a why. And while he sometimes found it hard to believe that God was allowing all this bad stuff to happen, he never stopped believing that God was this unwavering statue. He was supposed to always be there, as a sign of hope. So what did it mean now that he was gone. "The angels can't find him." He told her, not needing to go into details, but it wasn't like he could if he wanted to. "He just jumped ship."

"When?" Yep. Alex could feel it in her bones. It was like a creeping feeling, like she had snakes instead of veins. She was definitely going to have to take them the one place that she needed to stay away from.

"A couple days ago, at least." Sam said but he noticed that look on her face. His gut feeling told him that something was about to go down that he should be ready for, he just didn't have a single idea what that could be. But the look on her face unsettled him.

Dean, being Dean, didn't seem to pick up on it. But he was reliable for a bit of a tension breaker. He chuckled and took a swig of the dark liquid. "I suggested we should go look for Alanis Morrisette." There wasn't a round of laughter like he had expected and when he looked between the two of them, he didn't even see a wrinkle of amusement. "Oh, come on, tell me neither of you have seen Dogma?"

"O... K," Alex stared for a second and then slipped off the desk. She grabbed a leather jacket off of the back of her chair and pulled it on, yanking the zipper up to the hollow of her neck. "On that note, let's go." Before either of them could say anything, she started to walk towards the door. "You want to know symbols, that's me. I can tell you anything you need. But if you want to track the one who made it," She shrugged, "Well, I know someone. It's not a guarentee but it's worth a shot."

Sam stood up and held his hands up as he walked towards her, "Wait, so we're tracking down God now?"

"Yeah." Dean followed suit, once he finished his beer of course, and then he moved next to his brother. He'd been in the position where he was sure he'd lost Sam more than once and he'd learned to support him more. "This was just supposed to be another hunt. Find the bad guy, send him crawling and get back on the road."

"Yeah well, considering we're sitting on the edge of the apocolypse that you two boneheads started, I for one would like to have all the good on our side as possible." She looked between the two of them. "So what do you say?"

* * *

Dean had been driving for almost an hour and a half behind the motorcycle that Alex had gotten on. He had been thinking about what she said, about how he and his brother Sam had started the apocolypse, but of course he had so many questions that he knew he wouldn't get an answer to. For one, why did it have to be them? Was it lineage? Was it fate? Would things have been different if his father had never gone into hunting when Mary had been killed?

Now don't get him wrong. While he may wonder about these things, Dean knew very well that he couldn't change the outcome of everything that had happened. Dwelling in the past didn't get them anywhere.

"She's pulling over." Sam's voice broke through the thoughts that were running through Dean's head as he followed the black and white Aprilia RS250. He pulled the Impala up in front of the motorcycle, threw it in park and pulled the keys out. But he hesitated as he looked in the rear view mirror to see out the back where she pulled her helmet off and hung it on the handlebar.

While he'd been involved with many women, Dean had a good memory about them. He remembered his night with the girl he knew then as AJ Buckley. It hadn't been long after he and Sam had run into the Pagan Gods in Ypsilanti, Michigan who'd been pulling people up their chimney's. The two had met at a bar. He had recognized her from when he had been hunting with his dad. They spent hours at that bar, throwing back shots like they were trying to win a contest.

She'd convinced him to dance, which at that point was just light swaying while he felt her up and once they started to make out, it was no time before he had her clothes off back in the motel room. A smirk crossed his face when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked over at Sam and shrugged, "What?"

"You're.." He shouldn't be so surprised. Truthfully, he shouldn't be shocked at all. "Are you--" He swore he knew that look on Dean's face. He'd followed his line of sight and saw Alex standing by her bike behind the Impala unzippering her leather jacket. He started to laughed as he shook his head. He'd gotten accustomed to knowing that if there was a girl around, that was breathing--ie. alive--and looked semi decent, his brother would probably end up tripping over his own tongue.

Dean looked up, "What?"

"That's real nice." He pushed the car door open and slipped out, leaving his brother with a curious and confused look on his face.

"What?" Dean reiterated as Sam shut the door on him. Son of a bitch little brothers. Pocketing the keys, he pushed his door open and hopped out of the car. He'd planned on looking over at Alex again. They'd have fun one night before so why not show up for a repeat performance? But his focus was instead on the house they'd parked in front of. It was a modest little home, fence surrounding the property. In fact, the place was like a picture to Dean.

He hadn't seen a real home in a long time. This one looked quaint, pleasant, almost like the one he'd visited his mother in when the Djinn messed with his mind. He half expected to find a fresh apple pie cooling on the windowsill, or a Collie running around the yard. He realized then just how much he really liked this house.. and part of him really didn't want to bring this kind of drama into that perfect picturesque place.

He looked over at Alex then and asked, "So who is this guy?"

Sam waited for Dean and Alex, letting her up the walkway first. He followed close behind as he noted everything, including the freshly mowed grass and the neatly manicured herb garden around the sides of the house. He'd remembered driving by homes like this during the holiday season... with Jess. The two of them would cruise down the streets, bundled up as they looked at the decorations.

_'I'll buy you a home like this one day'_ he heard his voice echo in his head as he thought of holding her in his arms, warm against his chest, a puff of smoke from the cool night wrapped around each word. He cleared his throat of the thoughts as they made it to the front door.

"It's not a he." Alex said. "Her name is--" But the sentance was cut short as the front door opened. The woman on the other side looked in her mid twenties. Her shoulder length dark hair curled back behind her ears, ears that Dean quickly noticed had turned a little blush.. like she was embarassed, or angry. She stood not much taller than Alex, with a pretty face and what he was sure had been a pretty smile before she opened the door.

The biggest thing he noticed though was the dark haired little boy who was in her arms, asleep on her shoulder. He wore a black and gray striped one piece footie pajamas that Dean swore he remembered his parents buying for Sammy when he was a baby. The woman who was holding him stared right past he and Sam and had her eyes bearing into Alex.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was low and raspy, threatening but like she was trying to keep from waking the baby who couldn't be more than a year old.

Whatever had made Alex into a badass seemed to deplete as she stood in front of this other woman. Years of dealing with asshole hunters and creatures that go bump in the night had hardened her but it was curious as to why she went so flat all of a sudden. All she could do was stare at the girl holding that little boy and take a deep breath. Her eyes hesitated over the baby for a second before the woman's body turned to the side slightly as if she was blocking him from her view.

Her hand went up to cup the back of the baby's head, rocking him gently as she asked again, "What the _hell_ are you doing here? We agreed last time that you would never come by here again.." Her stomach was tight, rock hard with knots that made her worry for the baby in her arms.

"I know.." Alex said, jumping. "but we need your help." She tried to take some of the spotlight off of herself as she nodded towards Sam and Dean who had been quiet up until this point, both of them amiss, trying to figure out what it was exactly that they were so tense about. Sam wondered if it would have any affect on thier getting help while Dean couldn't contain his curiousity as his brain went another direction entirely and he wondered what it would be like if they got into a fighting match with each other. Maybe mud, no--jello.. no, even better, oil. Yeah. Hey, for a mom, this chick was hot.

"This is Sam and Dean Winchester."

The girl just looked at them both but a bell went off in her head. When she said thier names, she knew exactly who they were.. and the worry in the pit of her stomach started to thrum, almost making her sick. She held onto her little boy a little tighter.

"Guys, this is Brooke Davis."


End file.
